Things I Hate About Kate
by Reparata
Summary: I had to write this. Don't hate me. Maybe it'll clear some of the blocks.


The Things I hate About Kate

Rick walked into his study and sat down, suddenly feeling his age. He turned around in his chair and pulled a bottle of ancient Scotch from behind a volume of Dickens and poured three fingers into a cut-glass tumbler.

He twisted around and pulled up an encrypted file on his display and opened it. It had been a while since he'd updated it. Quite a while.

He went through his ritual of prioritizing the items based on 'current events' just as he'd done every time since he started his list. It had grown considerably over the years. The entries started out small but got really big near the end. He didn't want to think about the end. Not here and not now.

I hate that you insist on driving all the time. Someday, I'd like to drive. It's a guy thing, okay?

I hate that I made you end it between us. I hate that I caused you heartache and I hate myself for ever opening up your mom's case. I had no right to intrude.

I hate that you parade those idiots around by the nose and ignore the man who loves you more than anything in the world except his daughter. I hate the way you make me feel, Kate. It's so unfair of you to give them your time and love when all they want is your body.

I hate that you and Demming are together. I hate that I can't be the man you need nor ever will be. I hate that he's the one who gets to see you naked, touch you, love you. I hate it. I hate him.

I hate that you took off with Josh after the Freezer thing. I was cold before but when I saw you leave, I became utterly frozen. I hate being your partner and nothing else.

I hate that you think so little of your life that you'd throw it away for a chance to bring justice to someone who probably would hate you for doing what you do. Do you really think your mother wants justice more than seeing her daughter safe and happy? Your death will not bring back either Johanna or Roy. Your death will do nothing but absolve your conscience of imagined obligations.

I hate that I couldn't take the bullet that almost took you away from me. I hate that you had to hear me beg you not to die because I loved you and not beg you to love me like I love you. I hate the son of a bitch that shot you.

I hate that you haven't called me yet. It's been a long time and although I'm waiting patiently (okay, fucking _im_patiently), I am afraid that you have no intention of calling, that this is your way of ending us, using your shooting as an excuse, okay, reason, to end us.

I hate that you came to my book signing as if nothing had happened and that you were just another fan girl. I hate that you broke your word and never called me, not once in four months, Kate. I hate that you just reappeared and acted like nothing important had happened. Like I was nothing important.

I hate that you shut me out, that you close yourself off, just when we need each other the most. I'm hopeful that it's purely unintentional but sometimes, Kate, I have my doubts. Why won't you let me in? I'm sure inside is as beautiful as the outside is. A scar is nothing. All I see is you.

I hate that you never told me that you heard me in the cemetery, Kate. I hate that you used that one sacred moment to break a suspect. I hate that it meant so little to you that it's now a tool in your interrogation toolbox. I think I hate you, Kate.

I hate that you won't give up this Death Quest of yours and see what a mess you're making of your own life and the lives of all those around you who love and cherish you. I hate not having the courage to see it through to the end.

I hate that I can't breathe when you're around, that my heart aches to touch you and tell you how much I love you but that'll never happen, will it, Kate? I can't stand the pain of your lies so I'll end it between us the only way I know how. I hate hating you, Kate. Can you understand the contradiction? I don't think you can and even if you could, I don't think you'd care. I _need_ to hate you, Kate. It would make life so much easier.

I hate that we only had one night together before you left. I hate that you didn't tell me. I hate that you weighed 'us' against this quest of yours and found 'us' lacking.

Rick took a long pull on his glass of Scotch and made the last entry he'd ever make.

I hate that you've left me alone to live out the remainder of my life without you.

Alexis came to his office door and knocked gently against the doorframe. Her father looked haggard and worn and she knew how hard the evening would be for him but then again, it would be hard on all of them. The funeral this morning had seemed surreal and she knew that Beckett, wherever she was, was sniffing in disapproval of such goings on but her father had been decisive and unyielding.

"Ready to go, Dad? The car's here and I'm sure Ryan and Esposito are already there. Lanie and Jenny will meet us at the Old Haunt."

"Yeah, Pumpkin, just give me a minute, okay. I just want finish this thought."

He picked up where he'd left off.

…without you. I hate that we only had 32 short years together, Katherine Beckett Castle, before Alzheimer's stole you away from us.

If you remember nothing else, remember that I love you.

Always,

Rick


End file.
